


One Hex Of A Mistake

by stitchesandicecream



Category: Fire Emblem: Kakusei | Fire Emblem: Awakening
Genre: Blood Loss, F/M, Gen, Non-Graphic Violence, Sleep Deprivation, Starvation, Torture, i mean it really aint that graphic but heads up yknow
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-27
Updated: 2016-08-27
Packaged: 2018-08-11 08:01:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,910
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7883131
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stitchesandicecream/pseuds/stitchesandicecream
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tharja wants to try out a hex and Henry's all too eager to help out. He doesn't consider her ulterior motives until it's too late. Stranded and weak in the middle of the woods, he'll have to (literally) drag himself (back to camp on his half-dead body).</p>
            </blockquote>





	One Hex Of A Mistake

**Author's Note:**

> Howdy! It's my first time uploading here, but I hope y'all enjoy.  
> I started this concept intending for it to get a bit more graphic, but this worked well enough by the end of it. The goriest it gets is in describing bleeding, so if you're squeamish it might not be the best idea to try, but it's all pretty light stuff.

“Hey, Tharja.” She didn’t move. “Tharja?” No response. “Tharja!”

She looked up from the book she’d been reading for the past few hours, glaring in Henry’s direction. “What?”

“I’m hungry.”

“Good,” she huffed, casually opening the book back to the page she’d been on. “Just keep being quiet for now.”

He pouted quietly to himself. Tharja had told him she wanted to test out some insomnia hex and, naturally, he’d agreed to help out. He hadn’t realized she was planning to keep him tied to a wooden post in her tent for four days to make sure it was working properly. That was two days ago. He’d also, coincidentally, skipped breakfast that day.

“What’re you reading?” he prodded. She ignored him at first, until he asked again. And again. And again.

The book snapped closed in her hand. “I was reading about...curses. The usual thing. Maybe I should use one to keep your mouth shut.”

Henry perked up at that. “That would be fun! Nya ha! Two hexes for the price of one!”

That smile alone was enough to fray her nerves. It was the reason she’d wanted to test the curse on him in the first place. Well, that and she knew he was probably the only person in camp who’d agree to it, but mostly she wanted to see whether she’d be able to get him to stop smiling if only for a short while. She stood from her chair and crouched down in front of Henry so they were at eye level.

“It’s been almost three days since I put the curse on you. Aren’t you feeling tired yet?” she asked. She looked him up and down slowly, noticing that he’d lost a little weight over the time he’d been sitting there, too. To be expected, since he hadn’t eaten anything.

“I’m exhausted!” He beamed at her as he answered. It was like he didn’t feel at all worn down, even though he looked horrible. “My shoulders are sore and I’m really hungry. And thirsty, too!”

“You aren’t acting like it.” Tharja stood up, muttering something under her breath the whole time. “There.”

“There wh...at…” Henry slowly looked down as he felt a slow, searing pain work its way up his arm. Did Tharja just curse him? Again? “What’s this? Ouchie!” A sting on his cheek, his leg, his wrist. He looked down to see blood slowly pooling on his skin and in his clothes.

“I thought you might appreciate some motivation to stay quiet. I’m trying to read.” She stepped back before the small puddle forming beneath her guest could reach her feet, walking back to her desk and opening the book back where she’d stopped. “Every word you say is a new cut. Try not to bleed out before we’re done testing the hex, those aren’t shallow.”

Henry shifted slightly as the dirt beneath him turned to mud. The mix of dirt and blood would probably make the absolute worst kind of stain and he knew he was no good with cloth. Not that he minded the blood so much as the dirt. Tharja wasn’t kidding, though, those cuts had hurt pretty badly and he was still bleeding steadily from each of them as far as he could tell. Then he had an idea.

“He- ow. Hey, Tharja.” Three more.

“Stop wasting your breath.” Still reading.

“It’s another day until the curse wears off, right?” His shirt started to dot with blood, then grow heavy with it as his chest was slashed.

Tharja closed her book again, glaring daggers at Henry – not that he needed it, clearly, she thought as she noted the number of cuts he’d already suffered. “Assuming you don’t bleed yourself dry by then.”

“Nya ha! That’s the thing- ouch- about that. If I bleed out first, you- ow- don’t get to know how well it sticks,” he said, smiling through each of the cuts and only flinching every so often. “So-”

He was cut off by Tharja slamming her hand over his mouth. “Look, you moron, I’m not going to let you bleed yourself out like that. If I’d realized how stubborn you were going to be about this, I’d have used another curse. Don’t you make another sound.” She turned to glance around the room, grimacing as she felt some of his blood trickle over her hand, and finally leaned away only once she’d found what she was looking for. Henry tried to speak again in the short time she’d given him before she shoved a cloth into his mouth and secured it with another around his head. “There. Now stay. Quiet.”

Henry did his best to keep his cheery nature even behind the gag, unwillingly silent for the next few minutes, or hours, or really it could’ve been days as far as he was concerned. The taste of blood seeping through the cloth was distracting. He reeked of it now, too. After a few shakes of his head, he could tell it was stuck in his hair at a few places, as well. And, wow, did the room usually spin like that? He’d probably spoken too much. He lifted his leg and tried to stretch over to Tharja. Ah, she was almost to the end of that book of hers. It must’ve been hours. Seeing that he couldn’t reach, he settled for dropping his foot on the floor multiple times until she finally looked up.

“I’m almost done, Henry, be patient.”

He’d _been_ patient, dammit. Henry whined through the gag as loud as he could, trying to get Tharja to pay attention to him. He was tired, and hungry, and thirsty, and he’d lost a lot of blood. And, well, he’d be lying if there wasn’t a part of him enjoying it, but this had gone on long enough and he was ready to get back to playing with the crows, or practicing magic, or playing with the risen, anything but just sitting here at the end of his sanity.

Apparently the whining was loud enough at that point for the curse to register a few more cuts, a couple in his shoulders and definitely at least one he felt on his face. He tried again with a muffled scream, satisfied with the small collection of shallow cuts showing up along his arms with that. It was definitely starting to make him a little heady. Or maybe that was the hunger. Or maybe it was both.

Another good puddle of dirt and blood had formed around him by the time Tharja finished her reading, looking up with a scowl at the mess he’d made in that short time. “All right, you win.” She stood, looked him over briefly, then went behind him and undid his bindings. He almost immediately went for the gag before her hands were around his wrists. “Not yet. Not until I show you what you won. Remember?”

Henry pouted at that, or tried to, then realized with a cloth covering his mouth that wasn’t really going to amount to anything, so he nodded cheerily instead and stood up next to Tharja. The night sky was oddly bright once they stepped out of the tent, even with the thick cloud cover. It must’ve been a full moon or near to it.

“Just follow me.” Tharja didn’t even turn around to make sure Henry was trailing behind, confident that he wouldn’t want to risk missing out on whatever she was going to show him. And as much as she was enjoying the silence she’d worked so hard for, she did take a moment to dispel the curse. “You can leave that cloth wherever you feel like, by the way.”

It didn’t even take her saying it for him to already have it out of his mouth and on the ground. The second he’d felt the curse lift he’d already started on it. “Thanks! I gotta say, that was one HEX of a curse!” Oh, he was joking, sure, but he really did mean it. Between the lack of sleep and the general state of neglect his body was in, he was surprised he was standing up and walking to...wherever it was they were going.

Tharja didn’t stop until they were already well into the middle of a forest some good ways away from the camp in a small clearing. The moonlight had found its way through the cloud cover in the meantime, giving Henry a good idea of about where they were, but he looked around the clearing to see whatever it was he should be looking for that Tharja had promised him.

“Thaaarja, you said you’d give me something if I let you hex me!” he whined, still smiling, as he spun around to emphasize the emptiness of the area when he felt a bolt of magic strike him in the leg. It took him by surprise and more than that, it _hurt_ , ripping open all of the cuts on his leg instantly. He immediately lost his balance and fell to the ground clutching his leg, still holding onto a weak smile while he grit his teeth together against it. He didn’t mind pain usually, but this was too much on top of the exhaustion.

“You really never do stop smiling, do you?” Tharja took a casual pace to where Henry was curled on the ground, giving him a swift kick to the side in order to roll him onto his back. His facade finally faltered at that, the kick having ripped open a few more cuts on his chest and back and the new position had forced him to awkwardly hold his leg at an angle. “Well, look at that. I wasn’t sure you could do anything but smile.”

Henry took a few steadying breaths before he tried to speak. “Why...”

She bent over, running the back of her hand across his bloody cheek. “You’ve been getting a little too...close to Robin lately. I want you to stop,” she said plainly. Henry was almost surprised at the lack of malice in the request, but somehow he was actually intimated by it instead. He nodded slowly when she didn’t continue. “Good boy. I’ll trust that you can make it back to camp on your own.” With that, she stood and started walking back the way they’d come.

He was speechless. Surely she wasn’t just going to leave him out here like this, right? He rolled back onto his side, slowly loosening his grip on his leg and letting gods knew how much time pass before he decided that no, Tharja was serious and she wasn’t going to be coming to look for him or sending anyone else. Sighing, he steeled himself, putting weight onto his better leg first and slowly trying to stand up before crumpling face first into a heap on the ground the moment he tried to place his bad leg against the earth.

His vision was fading in and out and a sense of panic started to come over him. His body ached, partly from the pain and mostly from need. Without any sort of distraction, all he could focus on was the crushing hunger and thirst that had piled up on him over the past few days. He needed something, anything. He cried out a few times, hoping he was close enough to camp for someone to hear him. It was only when the moonlight started to fade behind the clouds again that he started to drag his body across the ground. It was slow, but it was his only option. No one was coming to help him at this point, and he couldn’t just up and disappear like that. There were more battles to come, more bloodshed...and, heck, once he was out of any real danger from this, he’d probably go right back to enjoying it.

  


Henry wasn’t sure how far he’d made it, but he was definitely in a denser part of the forest. The fallen leaves were helping him pull his dead weight across the ground which was a more than welcome change. He’d mostly stopped bleeding by that point, which was good, but every now and then he’d catch himself on a stone or something else on the ground and either open up an old wound or create a new one. Or both. He was sure if he didn’t have the insomnia hex working in his favor he’d already have passed out.

The sound of rain coming down on the treetops let him know he had to be at one of the deepest parts of the forest. The light was fast fading and he wasn’t sure if it was because of the clouds or because of his vision swimming so much, but he knew there was a very low chance at this point that he was moving in a straight line anymore. For all he knew, he was moving away from camp and oh gods, he was tired. It was starting to catch up with him and he could only assume the hex was starting to lose its effect. His mind came in and out with the best it could muster of sleep. He started to get desperate, starting to strike himself on his wounds when he was losing focus and eventually starting to shock his bad leg to keep himself alert. The cuts were wide open again at this point, but he couldn’t fall asleep now or he’d never make it.

Had it been minutes or hours? He stopped for a moment on a small patch of grass to catch himself and try to figure out where he was. He thought he saw a few rays of sunlight peeking across the horizon at times, only to blink it away and realize it was exhaustion playing tricks on him. Every time he looked around he only saw trees, nothing but trees, and now he didn’t know which way he’d been facing when he’d stopped. A few raindrops washed down his cheeks and, oh, it was so refreshing. He was so thirsty. He stuck his tongue out to lap at the water running down his face only to find the taste of sweetness and iron, blood, he was bleeding again. It was enough for now. He reached out in front of him and forced himself to keep going.

Now he knew that it was getting brighter when the daylight stopped going away no matter how much he blinked, and the birds were singing and he could swear he heard something nearby. Maybe it was camp, or a village, some sort of human civilization that he could go to for help. It wouldn’t be so bad to die here like this, he thought. Not his first choice, or second, but it wasn’t the worst. It would definitely be a bloody death.

His vision started failing him again and the weight of exhaustion held him down into the mud anew. The hex was definitely weak, almost gone now, and the little energy he’d had from it was fading fast. He couldn’t bring himself to inflict any pain anymore, he was too far gone. He tried to lift his head, maybe at least see how far he’d gotten before he went, only to smear mud and leaves across the side of his face as it settled. A short laugh escaped him as he thought, wow, I really should’ve just kept my mouth shut.

The last thing he remembered was the sound of something pounding against his ears. Probably his heartbeat. Fitting. He let his eyes close and sleep wash over him.

  


Henry woke with a start, surprised first that he had even woken up and then surprised to find himself on a bed in a tent somewhere. He looked around, trying to figure out where he was or more importantly who’d found him and saved him, but the tent was empty.

“Hello?” When no one responded, he decided to lie back down. How long had he been out? He couldn’t believe he’d made it through that. Well, not really that he’d made it of his own effort, but. Not to say he didn’t have to work for it. Where was he, anyways? Was this camp?

After a few minutes of lying still, he heard the tent flap rustling as someone entered.

“Henry!”

He looked up to see Robin entering the tent and take a seat next to him. “We were starting to worry you wouldn’t wake up. How do you feel?”

Slowly this time, he sat up to meet Robin at eye level. “Pretty cAWful, really, ha ha!” Even with the enthusiasm behind it, he still couldn’t hide his exhaustion. Robin smiled at the joke before urging him to lie back down.

“You can’t be that bad if you’re still cracking jokes.” Robin stood, walking back towards the entrance to the tent. “You just focus on resting up for a while, okay? I’ll have Maribelle come in to check on you in a little bit.” After a nod from Henry, Robin gave a huff of relief. “Honestly, I don’t know what we would’ve done if Tharja hadn’t found you out there.”

Henry barely held his laughter in long enough for Robin to leave earshot before he absolutely lost himself. So she really did come back for him. He almost felt stupid for panicking.

He’d have to ask her to try out some hexes with him more often.


End file.
